


Maybe and just maybe.

by leon1995



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Affection, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, One Shot, Secret Relationship, sad past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 07:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18089849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leon1995/pseuds/leon1995
Summary: It is a night, so similar and so different at the same time, in which both learn to love.





	Maybe and just maybe.

Moira doesn't know what love is.

She doesn't remember the warmth of an embrace (which she suppressed in the memory of her family's death, allowing that old wound to become infected and rot from within her heart), she had forgotten the meaning of love.

Angela knows it's love.

She knows it's hugs and knows it's sometimes the safest place in the world. She imagines that falling in love, it was like sowing a seed, you just needed to be careful and give proper attention before blooming with deeper care.

Angela knows a lot about life.

She knows the joys of pleasure, she had liked to feel the touch of the skin touching hers. She has seen life through other eyes. She does not regret her birth, she does not regret having been born as she is.

Moira knows very little about life.

She doesn't like the sound of children's laughter (children frightened her, because of her fragility and innocence and she couldn't stand to be near something so pure and innocent). She regrets many of the decisions she has made. Perhaps, when she is a little older, when she is a little wiser, she would regret it; but the future is something that Moira knows very little about.

Moira knows a lot about death.

Talon had taught her a lot about it, she knows it is the feeling of dried blood on her hands, she knew the sound of bones breaking. She knows it is the smell, the sensation, the art of death. She knows that she has approached death several times, hundreds, and perhaps thousands of times, and yet she has not died.

Angela knows a lot about death.

Even if it doesn't look like it.

She has seen an entire city destroyed; she has seen people being killed, she has seen children loaded onto trucks and into the abysses of hell... and she had done nothing but witness those crimes.

At this moment they know nothing.

Angela talks to Moira about life, and he talks to her about what has happened. Moira talks about death and life, and Angela remains silent and offered a shoulder to cry when memories were too fierce and brutal for Moira, but she does not.

Moira had never talked to anyone about life and death, until one night Angela decided to open the wounds and scars of her heart, it is on her shoulder that Moira cries over one night. It is Angela's voice that is heard, persuasion of pain and sorrow, it is on her shoulder that Moira's dark memories fall, and finally helps heal the wounds.

It is a night, so similar and so different at the same time, in which both learn to love.

Moira looks into the center of her mind and heart and bids farewell to her memories of those memories that clung to her mind for so long. Angela takes his hand, intertwines her fingers, and they remain silent.

Moira moves and holds Angela's hand tighter, and Angela with her free hand, hollows out one of Moira's cheeks.

Moira, at first, is uncomfortable with the contact, but then relaxes.

And then they kiss.

Moira's lips don't respond at first; Angela's emotions mate and squeeze under her heart and she fears that she has made a very serious mistake, and then they separate with shy and careful movements.

They are silent. And then Moira looks at Angela and they kiss again. At this moment Angela bids farewell to her past and greets her future.

When they separate, they share a look, share a laugh and stand up. Their hands are together again, breathless, insecure and afraid. For Moira, the feeling of trusting someone else without a doubt is rare.

Moira can feel Angela looking, looking at her mind, looking at her soul, looking at her heart. And the words of the one repeat, -With you, it may not be so bad- Whisper Angela softly.

Moira's kisses are deliciously chaste, like small sips of wine, like unhurried steps in the summer rain, or the heartbeat of a child. It is Angela who drops the barrier that Moira raised against the world.

This is the first time Moira feels Angela's hands gently stripping her of her clothes.

-We shouldn't do it...-, Mention Moira in a soft voice.

-But as long as it's with you... - It's the first time Moira sees Angela's nudes, her white skin smooth with no imperfections in sight, her long blond hair dyed a supernatural white from the moonlight.

-It feels like I could get lost," says Moira as she slides her hands behind her back to the top of her buttocks.

This is the first time Angela has seen Moira's nudes; her pale skin contrasted with the various marks surrounding her body because of the experiments, Angela loses herself vaguely touching, resting her hands here and there. Angela touches the marks that Moira has and lovingly walks through each and every one of her marks, closing her eyes when the tears fall from them.

-Don't... say things like that," says Angela in a soft voice, "it's the first time Moira lets herself be touched in this way, Angela's fingers relieve the pain, no matter how temporary the relief.

-It's the first time that Moira feels her naked skin against her naked skin when she comes closer to give Angela another kiss, I don't want to lose you.

It's the first time Moira looks into someone's eyes and sees nothing but pure acceptance.

-Don't worry," whispers Angela, because it's the first time they don't require words, "I'm not leaving you.

It's the first time they've moved into a dance, so different from the dance of death they've known for so long.

There's a hug. The Wind summons a crescendo, and nature persuaded the stars to shine brighter and brighter until there are a million flashing lights around them.

They say a thousand words.

That is a thousand confessions.

It is the first time that Moira closes her eyes and prays and prays for something that cannot be described.

They have a thousand nightmares.

That they are a thousand distant memories.

It is the first time...

That they have a thousand opportunities.

That they are a thousand beginnings.

It is the first time...

That they have a thousand questions.

That there are a thousand answers.

It is the first time that they stop being them.

The wind plays a final chord.

When the symphony is over.

They know many things about life. And they know nothing about it.

Maybe and just maybe... they know a lot of things about nothing.

But for them that's more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> .-.-.-.-.  
> First of all, an apology for my absence and lack of updates.  
> I'm sorry if the characters don't agree very much with themselves, and although I've been playing Overwatch (which is why I haven't published so many fanfics, which is why I'm reusing this fanfic), I don't know much about the lore of the characters or the game apart from the obvious from the cinematic and some other entry to the wiki.  
> But I still hope you enjoy it, thank you for reading, and the comments as the critics always well appreciated, would be until the next story.  
> .-.-.-.-.


End file.
